It is certain that at this moment, in Marius's mind, no abuse of power, no violence, no abomination of the most prodigious tyrants, no deed of Busiris, Tiberius, or Henry VIII., equalled in ferocity this one,—M. Fauchelevent taking his daughter to England because he had business to attend to. He asked, in a faint voice,—
"And when will you start?"
"He did not say when."
"And when will you return?"
"He did not tell me."
And Marius rose and said coldly,—
"Will you go, Cosette?"
Cosette turned to him, her beautiful eyes full of agony, and answered, with a species of wildness,—
"Where?"
"To England; will you go?"